Paging Dr. Freud

Wanted to share this nocturnal transmission from last night.  So I’m in a hotel room in the Far East (Shanghai, Hong Kong perhaps), with some polynesian street urchin (perhaps a working girl) who removes one of her eggs (yes, that kind of egg), and then cracks it open, and scrambles it atop the dusty thermostat of the hotel room heater.  Jolted into reality, I awaken to the wafting aroma of the morning meal, of real life, creeping through the house.  Guess what’s for breakfast?  (no s!*t)

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